The Saints of the Sword (22 page)

“Jelena?” Timrin probed, trying to keep step with her. They all called her by her real name and not some regal title. It was part of the informal atmosphere on Crote, something that Jelena herself fostered. “Greel is waiting,” Timrin went on. “What should we tell him?”

Jelena stopped dead. She took a resolute breath and looked at her advisor. “Oh, Timrin,” she said. “What choice have I got?”

“None at all, I think.”

“Have the messenger tell Greel that I shall see the devil. Have him brought ashore. But he’s not to bring anything with him.” The Lissen queen emphasized that point, remembering that one of Biagio’s devices had destroyed the Naren cathedral. “Be clear about that, Timrin. Biagio is to come alone, without any gifts or boxes of any kind. I want no tricks from him.”

Timrin said, “He is a magician, Jelena. You must expect tricks from him.”

“Just do as I say,” Jelena ordered. “I will meet with them on the shore by the mansion. No doubt Biagio will be expecting me there.”

“Biagio knows many things,” agreed Timrin. “He has his fingers everywhere. Be on guard for him.”

“I will,” said Jelena. A vast weight suddenly pressed down on her shoulders. “Go and do as I say. I will dress for his arrival.”

After a polite bow, Timrin scurried off back toward the mansion, dashing across the grass to deliver the queen’s message. Jelena followed, but did not hurry. In many ways, she wanted the walk to last forever.

The
Dread Sovereign
was escorted toward the shore by a flotilla of well-armed schooners. Commander Greel, the Lissen captain in command, had given Kasrin clear orders to stand down all weapons and follow the escort into Crote. Any deviation, Greel had promised, would result in the immediate sinking of the
Sovereign
. So Kasrin ordered Laney to bring the warship straight toward shore, and soon they were closing in on the island. Biagio stood at the prow of the vessel. He knew that Queen Jelena had taken up residence in his former mansion, and he wanted to see it again, to make sure the usurper had taken good care of it in his absence. But as the rolling lawns came into view, Biagio gasped.

“My God. What have they done to it?”

The marble and gold masterpiece had been turned into a fortress, walled in by barricades, its pristine landscape scarred with deep trenches and wooden battlements poised
with cannons. Even from this distance Biagio could see Lissen lookout towers in his gardens and a great, cloaking wall of brick looming over its northern face. The precious metal leafing had been peeled from the ornamental roof tiles, and the priceless statues that once dotted his rose garden had been replaced by rows of pickets and calthraps; giant, pointed traps designed to impale onrushing troops.

Biagio’s heart sank. Everything he had loved was invested in his villa, and now it was gone, wiped clean by a militant hand. Even the birds had abandoned his gardens, no doubt flown to some better place, and the only living things he saw parading the grounds were Lissens—filthy, mud-covered workers and pompous, self-righteous sailors, the same kind Nicabar so despised. They were everywhere around the compound, their blond heads bobbing as they craned their necks to see the approaching dreadnought.

“Bitch,” Biagio spat, his old ire rising. What Jelena had done to his home was unspeakable, and Biagio could think of no good reason for it.

“Incredible,” commented Kasrin absently. The captain had come up alongside Biagio to see the mansion, and now his face was as flushed as the emperor’s. “They didn’t leave much, did they?”

“No,” growled Biagio. “They did not.”

He balled his hands into fists and tried to control his outrage. It wouldn’t do for him to go into these delicate negotiations trembling with rage, so he closed his eyes for a moment and tamed himself. After all, he was at least partly at fault. The Lissens had come at his invitation. He had handed Crote to them, and he should have expected their outlandish destruction. Nicabar was right. Lissens were warlike and dim-witted, without any sense of art or beauty.

“Looks like Jelena’s been playing rough with your dollhouse,” quipped Kasrin. “Maybe you should spank her.”

“Tend to your post, Captain,” Biagio snapped. “And keep your jokes to yourself.”

Kasrin stepped back. “You won’t win any friends with that attitude, Biagio. I suggest you improve your mood before meeting the queen.”

“Queen,” scoffed Biagio. “A little girl pretending to be a woman. Look what she’s done to my home! I should—”

He stopped himself abruptly. Crewmen were looking at him. Biagio steadied himself, taking a breath.

“Yes,” he said calmly. “You are right. I must prepare myself to meet this witch.” Very slowly he rubbed his hands together, trying to think. “The Lissens will insist that I go ashore alone, but I will not. You will accompany me, Kasrin. This business cannot take place without you.”

“Me?” blurted Kasrin. “Biagio, I think you should listen to them. Go alone if that’s what they demand. No sense in making it tougher for yourself.”

“You don’t understand. There are things I will be discussing with Jelena that concern you, like the
Fearless
. She will want to know what my plans are for dealing with Nicabar. I’ll need you there.”

“Come to think of it, I was wondering about that myself. What are our plans for the
Fearless
? You haven’t told me and I think I should know.”

“You’ll know soon enough,” said Biagio. He turned and looked back over the prow. “Just be ready to go ashore.”

Kasrin went silent, leaving Biagio to ponder the wreck of his mansion. The
Dread Sovereign
let the schooners escort her closer to shore, surrounding her with their cannons and staying close to starboard and port, leaving the dreadnought no room to maneuver. The closest schooner, the one commanded by the Lissen named Greel, steered them directly toward the beach where they could take a landing dingy ashore. Already Biagio could see figures gathering on the sand waiting for him. He didn’t bother looking through his spyglass to find out who they were, because he knew from the long platinum locks and flowing peacock dress that one of them was Jelena.

The child queen
, thought Biagio wryly. From here she hardly looked more than a girl.

Eventually the fleet of schooners led the
Sovereign
close enough for her to drop anchor. There was no harbor on this side of Crote, just the endless white beach that Jelena and her Lissens had marred. He would go ashore
by rowboat, Biagio knew, and so watched passively as Kasrin’s officers traded orders with their Lissen captors, dropping anchor and waiting for a boat to come alongside. As Biagio suspected, Laney delivered the anticipated news.

“The Lissens are sending over a launch. They want you to go ashore, Lord Emperor. You’re to go unaccompanied.”

Biagio nodded. “I understand. Please tell them that Captain Kasrin will be going ashore with me.”

Laney stared at him. “Lord Emperor …”

“Do it,” ordered Biagio, “or I will not go ashore. Once you explain that to them, they will capitulate.”

With Biagio’s certainty to buoy him, Laney turned to his task. He waited long minutes for the rowboat to come alongside the
Sovereign
, then shouted down Biagio’s conditions. The Lissen sailors reddened at the news demanding that Biagio board their tiny vessel alone, but Biagio wouldn’t budge from the
Sovereign
, not even when the crew lowered the rope ladder for him.

“They won’t change their minds,” said Kasrin. “If the queen says she wants you alone—”

“Be quiet, Captain,” Biagio said.

Enough was enough, he decided, and so he went to the railing where Laney was negotiating and stared down at the Lissen rowboat pitching on the waves. “I am Emperor Biagio,” he called. “I won’t come aboard unless my captain comes with me.”

The Lissens were astonished to see the emperor.

“You’ll come aboard on our terms, butcher,” one of them shouted back, “or we will blow you out of the water!”

Biagio shook his head. “Do not make idle threats. If your queen wishes to speak to me, she will agree to my terms. Or would you prefer to tell her yourself that you lost me, and my important news?”

As Biagio expected, the Lissens in the dingy fell silent, pondering his words.

“I’m tired of this,” Biagio growled. “Give me your answer, or go ahead and fire. I’ll leave it to you to explain things to Jelena.”

Finally, the Lissens relented. Their leader called up, “Bring your captain aboard. But no weapons. And no tricks, either. We know you, Biagio.”

“Do you? How gratifying.” He turned to Kasrin, gesturing toward the rope ladder. “Captain? After you.”

“Thanks,” said Kasrin dryly. Then, like the expert sailor he was, Kasrin vaulted over the rail and began descending the rope ladder. When he had gone down three rungs, he looked up at Biagio. “Coming?”

From her place on shore, Jelena watched as the little rowboat approached, apprehension growing in her with every stroke. She could see several men in the launch, most of them Lissens. But there were two strangers on board, one with the remarkable hair and skin of Crotan gold, the other dressed in the indigo uniform of the Black Fleet. Jelena frowned at the sight of them, upset that her instructions had been ignored.

“Who’s that with him?” asked Timrin. “Jelena, I swear I gave orders that only Biagio was to be brought ashore.”

“I believe you, Timrin. Apparently Biagio hasn’t changed.”

Jelena herself had changed though, trading her filthy work outfit for a stately gown of blue that danced around her sandaled ankles and trailed in the sand as she walked. Occasionally the surf threatened her, nearly reaching her as it foamed up the shore. Jelena didn’t bother to avoid it. She didn’t want to appear afraid of anything, not the water nor the infamous man coming ashore. Next to her were a gaggle of advisors and bodyguards, all of whom had volunteered to protect her, but Jelena knew they just wanted to get a glimpse of their legendary enemy.

“I’ve heard he’s quite tall,” one of them observed.

“Wait until he’s seen what’s been done to his mansion,” snickered Timrin.

“Oh, he’s already seen it,” said another.

“Quiet,” Jelena scolded. “Let’s carry ourselves like Lissens. I don’t want Biagio thinking we’re barbarians. Today we’re diplomats, remember.”

Her people fell silent. They watched with their queen as the rowboat reached the shore and two Lissen seamen climbed out to beach it, dragging it up the shoreline until its hull was buried in sand. The rest of the sailors piled out, splashing into the surf. Jelena steeled herself. Suspiciously, she eyed the one she knew was Biagio, curious about the way he fretted over the water.

A fop indeed
, she told herself.

Finally Biagio got out of the boat, helped by the Naren officer he’d brought along. Jelena gaped at the sight of them. Biagio was indeed tall, and as he sloshed toward shore his long legs carried him like a spider. And the other one, the young officer, had that familiar Naren arrogance about him, reeking of superiority and misplaced confidence. He was shorter than his emperor but only by a little, with dark hair and ruddy features that contrasted Biagio’s softness. As they came ashore guided by their escorts, each looked around suspiciously, their eyes finally coming to rest on Jelena. The young queen squared her shoulders. Biagio gave her a polite though serious smile.

“Queen Jelena, I presume.” He paused a few paces before her, inclining his head as he spoke. “It’s my honor to meet you.”

Jelena was shocked. She had heard that Biagio was extraordinary looking, but the vague description hardly did him justice. He was astonishingly handsome, with delicate features that belied his masculinity, making him seem like both a woman and a man. His voice was musical, tuned like an instrument, and his golden hair was silky, pulled back in a long tail that fell down his back. When he looked at Jelena his eyes were bright, an ocean green that surprised the queen. She had heard his eyes were blue, the narcotic sapphire of all the Naren lords. Yet they were as clear as gems and remarkably animate, full of humor and danger. He took another step toward her, offering a cautious smile.

“The honor is yours alone, Biagio,” said Jelena icily. She turned toward the Naren officer. “Who is this?”

Before Biagio could answer, the officer stepped forward. “My name is Blair Kasrin,” he said. Then he pointed out
over the water. “That’s my ship, the
Dread Sovereign
. I’m her captain.”

Jelena didn’t acknowledge him. “You were supposed to come ashore alone,” she said to Biagio. “Why did you disobey me?”

“Because I have important business with you, my lady. And Captain Kasrin is part of that business. I knew you would let him come ashore, just as I knew your schooners would not open fire on us. Now …” He looked around, stopping when his gaze fell upon his villa. He sighed. “I’m tired of playing games with your people. We must talk.”

“First I want to know why you’re here,” said Jelena. “We won’t move an inch until you tell me.”

But Biagio was still inspecting his former home, clucking his tongue unhappily. “What a waste. It was so beautiful, and now you’ve ruined it. Have you any idea what you’ve done?”

“Watch your mouth,” warned Timrin, stepping between Jelena and Biagio. “You’re talking to the Queen of Liss, you Naren pig.”

Biagio peeked around him, saying to Jelena, “You’re expecting an invasion, aren’t you? It isn’t coming.”

“What?” Jelena blurted it out too quick to catch. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Biagio grinned at her. “Queen Jelena, I have important news for you. Now we can stay on this beach all day, arguing and getting nothing accomplished, or you can let me come inside and explain things to you. It’s up to you of course, but I think you’ll be interested in what I have to say.”

He was acting like he still owned the place, and Jelena seethed at his behavior. But he had come a long way, and at great personal risk, so the young queen finally surrendered.

“Follow me,” she ordered, then turned and stalked up the beach. Biagio and the navy man followed her dutifully. It was a long way up to the house, but they traversed the distance without a word. Biagio did nothing threatening, only muttering occasionally as he noticed some new change to his villa. Surprisingly, Jelena felt a creeping embarrassment
about his dismay. She was the one who had ordered all the defenses built and all the valuables sold off, and it seemed to her that Biagio blamed her for the desecration of his home.